My flight left at 9:50am on December 31st, and I flew for 13 hours, 12 of which involved being kicked in the back by an obnoxious spoiled brat of a child allowing zero sleep on my part, and landed in San Francisco at 6:30am the same day. I got to see Karl the Fog out of my window as dawn started to think about breaking over the city. Inside the airport, everyone kept saying good morning and looking very half awake, unaware that I had been awake for maybe 15 hours of my day already, but just had my clock rolled all the way back. I don’t think I’ve ever slept as hard on a plane as I did on that flight from San Francisco to Austin. Having circumnavigated the world by heading east, and more east, then more east, I was back home, ready to have a nice quiet New Year celebration full of street fireworks and gunshots with my loving partner Rami.
